Dancing
by elenilote
Summary: Danarius' new investment pays off. Modern AU - written for my beuatiful friend Phoenike


All the lights in the auditorium went out, plunging the waiting audience into total darkness, not even the usual 'EXIT' signs on the doors were lit. The chatter and the rustling gradually faded until all was quiet, there was an air of expectant anticipation – Danarius had always been known for his penchant for extravagant gestures but this time was different. No one knew much about the oncoming act - he had managed to keep it hidden very well. There were rumours of course, there always were. It was some dark-skinned pirate from Rivain and she would be wearing only her jewellery. No, surely it would be the tiny blonde girl that he had been seen eyeing at the markets just the other day and someone had overheard him making an offer to her!

No, they all had it wrong: it was a slave he'd brought back from his travels to Seheron, some exotic beauty that no one had seen so far.

If the air in the auditorium was one of anticipation, behind the stage it was one of nervous energy. Danarius had gambled a lot on this one, if the lad backed out on him now he would lose a lot more than just money – he would lose his reputation and that alone would be disastrous. He looked over to where the girls fussed over the slave, brushing his hair and rubbing some shimmering powder on his skin. The young man stood still and quiet throughout their ministrations, showing no sign of noticing them at all while his eyes fixed on the curtain in front of him.

Soon the girls were finished and Danarius stepped over to examine their work. Without their handiwork, the young man was still tall and slim, well-proportioned. Still, they had made him even more beautiful with the whorls of white ink that wandered over the burnt caramel colour of his skin. These the girls had done good work with making them stand out in stark contrast against that naked skin, so clever with the way they so tantalizingly disappeared under the waist of the well-fitting doeskin trousers that he wore as his only clothing... Danarius would delight in peeling them off him later. All of this was striking enough but when you added snow-white hair and emerald-green eyes to the mix...he was certain his audience would be hooked from the first sight of Fenris, even before he began to dance.

Fenris. Young wolf. That was the name he chose to call the boy when he acquired him all those years ago. There was something wild and feral about the young man in front of him, but it remained buried deep under the skin of a bought slave – which was only right and proper, he mused. No one wanted their slave to be too independent but not too docile either. After all, a little spirit was exciting.

Smirking, he cast an appreciative eye on the white tattoos which covered the slim body and his smile broadened - the ritual had worked perfect on this one. Five years he'd worked towards tonight, five years and immeasurable amount of money. He gestured for the stage hands to open the curtain and pushed Fenris towards the stage before stepping back to the wings to observe the show.

Fenris walked towards the centre of the stage, his bare feet making no sound on the floor. Though it was dark, his eyes were used to it enough to make out the pole which stretched from floor to ceiling in the middle of the stage - there was the exact spot he would start from. With his back to the pole, he bent forward until his hands were flat on the floor and slowly lifted his legs up until he drew up into a full handstand.

Then, the music echoed out - a slow and haunting beat that he had chosen himself. The auditorium remained in full dark for just a moment longer, keeping the anticipation at knife's edge. And then, the stage lights came on. They alone illuminated his slender figure motionless on the stage. As the song began to build, he then brought his legs down and slowly stood up and danced.

He swayed and twirled around the pole before climbing it and wrapping himself around it much like a cat, all sleek and long limbs. With every move smooth and sensual, he left the audience breathless in his wake. It was there when he lost himself in the dance and forgot he was being watched.

He wasn't dancing for them. He danced regardless of an audience. He danced because when he was on stage, he was free.

His whole body was drenched in sweat by the time the routine ended and had to shake himself to come out of the trance he found himself lost in. The music stopped and he stood, dazed in the limelight as the auditorium lights came on and he found himself faced with the crowd of people that he had forgotten existed. There was applause and whistling and calls for more, but Fenris stood still, caught in the suddenness of it all and unsure what to make of it.

In the end, he managed a graceful bow and even a small smile.

Maybe this wouldn't be such a bad job after all...


End file.
